


Programming Errors

by megapidgeots



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: F/M, For the winner of my giveaway ♥
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 07:05:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8195123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megapidgeots/pseuds/megapidgeots
Summary: Following the events of 'Broke His Crown', Simon attempts to begin a new life with Betty in Evergreen's crown.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Mon @soupery on tumblr!

If Simon was being honest, he knew right away that it wouldn't be the same. Some of the changes in her attitude were undeniable, but he refused to see it. He wasn't sure why he did that- perhaps it was some misled sense of optimism, or maybe it was something more akin to panic or denial. Either way, when Marceline and Bonnibel left the crown, he'd been hopelessly excited, ready to start a sort of life with Betty, or, er, Betty head.

But, naturally, it wasn't to last.

To begin, there were physical differences. Being only a head aside, she was also all, what was it? Glitched out. Her face was disfigured, and while he didn't mind that, really, it seemed to have scrambled her brain somewhat. Often, she would start sentences and they would veer off in a completely different direction halfway through, only to be entirely dropped by the end. This was all very unlike her.

“Simon?”

“Huh-wha?” Simon shut his book with a hard _thump_ , perhaps with suspicious haste, and turned to face Betty, who had one eyebrow raised.

“Were you listening to a word I said?”

“Yes, of course love, Huntress Wizard?”

“Er, yes, well, she's a classic example of what I like to call magic repression- some people are born with magic but others,” he eyes glazed over for a moment and she muttered something under her breath. Simon had tried on several occasions to discern what she was saying, but they seemed to be empty, meaningless garbled phrases.

Betty shook herself, “Right, well, in Ooo radiation poisoning seems to be common, and, ah, hm,” she busied herself by studying one of the walls nearby.

Simon sighed. He knew this wasn't the same- it never could be.

“Betty?”

“That's my name.”

“Betty what was out first date?”

Betty paused, then blinked over at Simon, her brow furrowed, “I,” she began. Then, without another word, she turned and floated in the other direction.

At first, he'd assumed Betty's constant distractions had been linked with a sort of fascination with the world they'd come to inhabit. It was very different from the one they'd been born into, after all, and Betty had always been inquisitive, but more and more he believed that she was using these excuses as a way to avoid questions about herself- about _them_.

The whole situation confused him- Betty had always been precise. She'd been the one to edit their shared writings- she'd made the large majority of their research breakthroughs. The Betty Grof he knew didn't do a sloppy job.

So then why has her project here so poorly handled?

Had it been done by someone else, simply imitating her likeness, or perhaps it was her mind that had been altered. Whatever the case, he was growing more and more concerned with the well being of real-world Betty, and he was determined to investigate further.

“Sir?” a loud, almost shrieking voice came from behind him, sending him leaping a foot in the air. He turned, fists raised, to find a small, green dinosaur cowering.

“I'm sorry, mister Simon sir.”

“Oh, Gunther,” Simon lowered his hands back to his sides, “sorry, you just startled me there.”

“I'm very sorry about that,” Gunther said, tapping lightly on his drum, “it's just that, well, Sven was saying that he wanted to talk to you and he uh,” he frowned, “said it was important and I should get you, so, uh, yeah.”

Simon hummed thoughtfully. Sven didn't talk to him often- he preferred to dwell on his own thoughts, he'd always presumed, or perhaps he was guilty because he'd burdened Simon with the crown. That being said, when he did talk it was generally important. The idea set a seed of worry in his gut, but he nodded regardless, “Thank you, Gunther,” he said, patting the dinosaur on the head.

Gunther giggled, “No problem, sir! Stop by later and we can have a jam session, alright?”

Simon nodded, only half listening, “Sounds good, Gunther,” he said as he began to walk in the opposite direction.

On his way, he made several detours to check the locations that Betty had come to frequent, but she was in none of them. Then again, Betty had always been an explorer, and well, he still wasn't convinced that this Betty wasn't the same as his Betty. He had to hold out hope.

When he found Sven, he was alone. That fact on its own concerned him. Sven was seldom seen without Santa- the two were a packaged deal. By the way Sven looked at him, he figured he was about to learn why.

“Simon, Santa's missing.”

“I'd, er, noticed. Where did you last see him?”

Sven frowned, “He was right next to me, and then he vanished, out of thin air.”

Simon bit his lip, “That's certainly odd.”

Sven sighed and sat back down on his usual step with a soft _huff_ , “Simon, I know you love her but, I think Betty's still causing trouble.”

“We don't know that for sure,” Simon offered, “It could be an external factor- perhaps someone's gotten hold of the crown, or perhaps it's part of the crown's natural aging process.”

“I think you know that isn't the case.”

Sven's hard tone rattled through Simon's body. He was right- he knew any problems with the crown were caused by Betty. Nothing like this had ever happened- not before the Betty in the real world altered it. Still, he didn't want to believe it.

The next comment cut even deeper.

“You have to know its not _her_ , right?”

“Well, I don't know.”

“You do know. Come on, Simon- you're a scientist- an intellectual- she's only bits and pieces of what used to be Betty thrown into some weird futuristic computer program.”

“I'm sure most of her memories are there.”

“But why? What purpose would memories about loving you serve? She needed to know numbers, hacking information. She's not Betty. She's a projection.”

Simon tensed up- numerous half thought-out comebacks flashed through his mind- he could argue than Sven was just _projecting_ his frustrations, but he knew that, at best, that was avoiding the real problem. “She loved me.”

Sven nodded, “I know, but who knows what the outside world did to her- you saw it changing- who knows how much worse it's gotten since then. I mean, you've been in this crown so long- do _you_ still feel the same?”

Simon paused. The first answer that leaped into his mind was yes, of course he did, but a seed of doubt tugged at the back of his mind nonetheless.

“I'm going to go find Betty,” he said, turning away from Sven. He left at a quick pace, not wanting to hear any further comments. He did love Betty- he'd loved her for years and years, so why was he so hesitant to defend that now? Had the spark really left?

Betty's intervention in the world of the crown had left some changes behind. There were now structures that had not previously existed, almost like a bizarre art student's interpretation of towers. Betty liked to hide in the center of them, where it was difficult for a non-floating entity to access.

“Betty?” he called, his voice bouncing off the walls.

After a moment's pause he added, “Betty I'd like to ask you some things.”

After yet another pause, Betty floated up to his level, “Seems to be all you ever do these days,” she said with a lighthearted smile, and it evoked a flutter in Simon's chest that he'd become pleasantly familiar with over the years.

“I just wanted to ask you about the code you implemented here. Sven was theorizing that perhaps it may have some lingering affects.”

“Oh, it definitely does.”

Simon flinched, “What?”

Betty hummed, “Its no use if the virus can be easily stopped by someone other than the programmer. That Bonnibel was clever, but no, she didn't quite stop me. I've still been collecting data this whole time.”

“You bring it up so casually. You've been causing a lot of trouble here,” he stared at the floating head of his fiance- she'd never been so careless before. Something was different, “you aren't acting like yourself, Betty.”

Betty sighed, “Look Simon. My primary function is to gather information- I hold some of Betty's memories because she thought they might be useful, and they were. That's it.”

Simon lowered himself to the ground, suddenly feeling a thousand years older. His bones felt heavy and his chest tight, “You still remember us though, right? You wouldn't make that up?”

Betty floated downwards so that she was at his level once more, “I do love you Simon. The way I feel emotions is different- manufactured. I'm not Betty, but I do love you, through Betty's memories.”

“Right,” Simon said, nodding, “right, let's talk about something else,” he tapped his fingers against the ground. There had to be something they could discuss that would alleviate his anxieties. Nostalgia, perhaps?

“Ah, Betty, do you remember our first date?”

Silence.

“Betty?”

“I'm sorry Simon.”

“Do you really not remember?”

“I,” Betty sighed, turning from him, “I was programmed with whatever data she considered necessary for the project. I'm not saying she doesn't care about those memories- I just don't have them. Here, why don't you tell me about it?” her voice was flat and uninterested.

Tears had begun to form in Simon's eyes, which he stubbornly pushed back, “What about the day you proposed? Oh Betty you must recall that day.”

Another span of silence.

“Oh Betty,” Simon sighed.

“I'm sorry.”

“Not even a little?”

“I know Betty loves you, and she hopes you still love her.”

“You just don't know why.”

“I suppose not.”

Simon nodded and rose to his feet once more. Betty eyed him curiously, but he found himself unable to meet that once-familiar gaze, “I have to go think,” he managed.

“I love you,” Betty said as he began to step away. Simon paused, thinking over a reply, but nothing came to him, so he simply nodded and continued walking.

She wasn't Betty- she _wasn't._ A thousand years of painful, trapped loneliness and even still he could not be reunited with his love.

As he continued to walk, he wondered to himself how he'd not realized all the differences before. It had definitely been denial, he decided. After waiting so long for her, he supposed that he had just hopped beyond hope that she would arrive and everything would be happy and good as it once was. Perhaps in the world his body lived in now, that was too much to ask.

He really 'aught to let go of what was now the distant past.

“Oh, hello, Simon,” and joyous, almost laughing voice greeted him.

“Santa,” Simon said, his head jolting up, “you're alright.”

“Yes, yes. Took me a while to sneak away from Sven. You see, I figure we've been here hundreds of years and not once have I celebrated his birthday. Now, I know we have no way to tell time here, but I figure we're close, and I should give him a gift, so I snuck out here, mashed some wood together, and made this here flute,” he spoke at such a speed that it was impossible to get a word in edgewise before the man stopped to take a massive breath.

“You aren't hurt? Or deleted?”

“Now why would that happen?”

Simon shrugged, “Sven was just paranoid. I suggest you get back to him.”

Santa nodded, “Right, right, good day Simon.”

“Bye,” Simon said quietly, though he was sure he was not heard by the jolly old man.

Once Santa was out of range, Simon turned his attention back to where Betty hovered around another tower.

She wasn't Betty- she never would be the Betty he'd known. He accepted that.

But what did that mean?

Was she actively harmful to them now? Or just collecting data?

Regardless of the answer, he wasn't sure if there was anything he could do about it.

Perhaps the best he could do was keep moving forward. He'd become good at that. Now letting go of the past, that was something that was more difficult.

Could he really love this Betty? Should he?

Those weren't questions he was ready for yet.

Letting go of the past would have to wait for another day.

 


End file.
